Return to the House of Sin. Anabelle Bryant

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СКАЧАТЬ a vent, she would cool and in good time regain a sensible demeanour. It wasn’t Raelyn’s fault their plans had taken an unfortunate and inconvenient turn. No one controlled the weather and the unrelenting rains left the roadways muddy and impassable. Although the whole of their sudden jaunt across the continent did find its root in Raelyn’s misfortune, much like their miserable stretch of travel.

      All day, gloomy clouds mocked their progress. Mile after mile of roads lined with bare crab apple trees passed amidst dusty, bleak nothingness, mute until an onslaught of rain struck with vehement insistence, the sound of the relentless downpour akin to Raelyn’s tears inside the carriage. Wasn’t their extended travel sufficient punishment? Watching her sister’s genuine discontent reminded of the delicacy of Raelyn’s disposition in comparison to her own. Clenching her teeth and praying for patience, Amanda’s remorse had transformed into fortitude. Each raindrop’s ping on the coach roof counted the seconds until it became the drum of her pulse. Somehow they’d managed to arrive at the wharf without further complications.

      At this very moment, their father sought the necessary information concerning their passage while Amanda, Raelyn and their maid, Enid, waited across the room. It was Raelyn who’d insisted they continue through the torrential downpour, but Amanda was hard-pressed to place further blame on her sister’s shoulders. While Raelyn nursed her broken heart, Amanda was equally as eager to accomplish their itinerary.

      ‘Whatsoever will we do if we miss our passage? Another ship won’t leave for France until a fortnight or longer.’ Raelyn’s voice turned an odd tone, caught somewhere between incredulity and barely constrained exasperation. Amanda identified the emotion as fear, her sister unwilling to be left alone with her thoughts of what might have been.

      Like her sister, Amanda wanted to leave Italy as soon as possible. France was the last stop on their travel agenda and then they would return to England. The whole of it amounted to a month’s worth of unexpected inconvenience because Raelyn had become entranced with her suitor, bewitched by his promises, and subsequently jilted. Whenever Amanda recalled these facts, she fought the urge to roll her eyes. Raelyn was a darling of the ton, sought by the handsomest suitors and invited to every distinguished event. Amanda reasoned this occurred because Raelyn carried herself with unmatched grace and delicate composure or was born under a lucky star she’d missed at birth. Either way, her sister accomplished effortless charm. Even through despairing sadness, Raelyn’s tears were neat, her lids hardly swollen, and lashes a-glisten. No doubt several gentlemen awaited her return, eager to console and offer entertainment after her recent disappointment.

      Of course, Father’s suggestion of a change of scenery and distraction through adventure had snagged Raelyn’s attention like a fish to bait, her sister anxious to escape the pitying gossip and perfunctory sideways glances sure to feed society’s vicious rumour mill once the emotional debacle became lively fodder. With no choice but to accompany them, as Raelyn and Father composed her entire family, Amanda left behind numerous friends, several social engagements and a stack of tempting invitations for the season.

      It was imperative their travels adhered to the schedule Father had planned or Amanda would never be returned to England in time to attend the event of a lifetime, a grand soiree in celebration of Princess Charlotte’s presentation at court. It promised to be spectacular and still nursing her wounds after missing the Frost Fair in February due to her sister’s struggles with an impertinent cold, Amanda was determined to ameliorate her disappointment by attending the festivities. At last, she would have the opportunity to prove her own elegance and self-reliance. She’d practised a delicate laugh when no one was in earshot and reminded herself often to tuck in her elbows, skirts, and slippers for that matter. Her tendency to fall prey to endearing mishaps, as her father labelled them, was an attribute she strove to expunge from her person.

      Therefore, she held no dreamy notion of falling in love or dancing with a handsome suitor at said event. Love seemed a fickle and somewhat cruel emotion. On most days, she genuinely sympathized with Raelyn’s misfortune, though lately all that wasted effort did nothing more than convince Amanda she wanted no part of sentimental entanglements. Father had never loved another after Mother passed away and Raelyn’s heart seemed devastated beyond repair. Who would invite the painful torment labelled true love?

      Now, a random ray of sunlight brightened the room to prove the skies had at last cleared and she huffed a breath of impatience as Father approached with a strained smile.

      ‘Everything is in order. I have the paperwork in hand for our passage to France. It’s a miracle the ship hasn’t left yet, but in that, the poor weather showed us favour.’ The Earl of Huntingdon dashed a glance in their direction. ‘We haven’t a moment to spare. Follow me. I’ll cut a path through the confluence outside the embarkation area, while the both of you continue to follow behind me. It’s crowded and we’ll need to move quickly. I’ve hired two footmen to facilitate our trunks aboard the ship.’ He motioned towards the door. ‘This way now. France awaits.’

      With their paperwork in hand, Father led them wharf-side, a proverbial stone’s throw to the anchored ships awaiting wind to billow their sails. Raelyn straightened her shoulders and stepped before Amanda, two inches taller for the two years she’d lived longer. As sisters, they resembled each other in appearance, but in disposition Amanda and Raelyn couldn’t be more opposed. Raelyn believed in fate and love, instant attraction and a benevolent force greater than herself. She found love often, with an intensity that almost frightened.

      Amanda worked with fact and bald scepticism, emboldened by too much bookish education and a discombobulated belief she was better off without the trappings of marriage. She often found herself at the mercy of confusion and mishap, to which she had no ready explanation.

      Regardless of these contrary viewpoints, Amanda followed Raelyn and Enid in the shadow of the earl, across the busy thoroughfare and towards the wooden slats of the walkway leading to the docks. The stench of rotten fish, abandoned cargo and assorted rubbish assailed her senses as she neared the embarkation platforms and she turned her head away. As Father had mentioned, the area was overcrowded with pedestrians, travellers, carriages and cattle, though Amanda did her best to keep pace with her sister.

      At one juncture, she was jostled so unexpectedly, she glanced over her shoulder to ensure the footmen followed, all at once apprehensive amidst the bustling assemblage. Where were all these people going in such a hurry? Formal travelling habits and uniformed livery became a blur of brown and grey against the drab wooden crates and pilings. A trickle of unease warned she needed to pay attention. Was that an angel whispering in her ear? She liked to believe when a forewarning occurred it was her mother offering wisdom. Amanda should take heed.

      Careful to keep sight of the top of her sister’s bonnet as it wove through the press a few yards ahead, she raised her eyes towards the sky. Like looming giants in a fairy-tale story, the enormous hulls of two handsome galleons grew larger with every step. The vessels might have been sisters, much like herself and Raelyn, with only the slightest of differences when one examined each closely. Paused by a sense of awe, the galleon on the left unfurled a huge sail. The white cloth snapped full of wind, the subsequent jolt of the ship against its ropes startling. Best Amanda cease daydreaming and hasten aboard.

      Dropping her attention, she searched the crowd ahead, all at once aware she’d become separated from her father and sister by the urgent press of interlopers and travellers. With a quick scan backwards, she noticed the footmen were no longer visible. Stifling a gasp, she hurried along and searched her memory for Father’s description of the ship. Had he mentioned the galleon’s name? Her eyes scanned the gold lettering painted in a flourish across each ship. Alas, their names were in Italian. She wouldn’t find help there. Sidestepping a suspicious-looking puddle, she pushed her boots into motion and scurried towards the gangway, anxious to locate her family and have her journey safely underway.

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